THE timing was extraordinary. For two weeks in August, the British media was saturated with the story of the grim abduction and murder of two ten-year-old girls. Then, within days of the suspects being charged, came news of an invention that could ease the understandably inflated anxiety of parents. An implant that could be embedded discreetly under the skin of a child鈥檚 wrist. Should the child wander off or fail to turn up when they ought, her parents could phone the device and it would broadcast her position.
The story raced around the globe. Newspapers carried photographs of the chip鈥檚 鈥渄esigner鈥�, Kevin Warwick of the University of Reading鈥檚 cybernetics department, holding a slim glass capsule with some electronics in it. The implant would lie dormant until sent a message via a mobile phone. And as Warwick balanced it on his wrist to show just how small the device was, the wise or well-known were called upon to ruminate the implications.
But there was a frustrating lack of detail. How did this prototype chip work? Who would manufacture it? Journalists calling the chip鈥檚 designer got a message directing them to a British news agency called INS. Irritated, but not unduly suspicious (scientists announcing breakthroughs sometimes find it easier to go through a single media outlet), we called. Then came the bombshell. Anyone wanting to speak to the cybernetics professor would have to pay the agency 拢50. Why? 鈥淏ecause the idea for chip came from us鈥︹��
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Suddenly, everything made sense. The technical details were sketchy because there was no research programme or manufacturer. In fact, there wasn鈥檛 even an implant. The device in the photos was a different chip, similar in appearance to one that Warwick had temporarily implanted into his arm four years ago. It had been designed solely to open electronic door locks in a university department. There never was a blueprint for turning it into a child tracker.
The role reversal in all this is quite delicious. Normally journalists publicise the ideas of scientists. Here was a scientist publicising an idea cooked up by journalists, keen to flog a story on the back of the public鈥檚 concern for children. Traditionalists already grumble about researchers publishing their results via press releases rather than peer-reviewed journals. They鈥檒l scarcely be impressed about this next evolutionary step in science鈥檚 relationship with the media.
Yet, however imaginary the project may be, it has sparked a worthwhile debate about the feasibility of such child-tracking implants.
Mobile phone networks already know how to locate phones to within about 50 metres. They simply measure how long it takes a signal to get from the phone to the nearest few base stations and triangulate them. A chip designed to pick up GPS signals would be even more accurate. Either way, though, squeezing the technology into a tiny implant would be no cakewalk. Each device would need an antenna, a chip and a fairly powerful battery. Then you have to work out how to recharge the battery. Even if it鈥檚 not transmitting all the time, it will need topping up. You cannot simply plug a child into the mains.
In fact, it took a California-based company four years and millions of dollars to shrink a GPS chip and the necessary mobile phone components so they鈥檇 fit into something the size of a chunky wristwatch. The wearable device, which can be locked onto a child鈥檚 wrist, went on sale in the US just two months ago. It has an emergency panic button that notifies parents and the police, who can then use the Internet or a mobile phone to locate the child within minutes.
Scaling down a similar device to the size of an implant will be slow and costly. Anyone who attempts it is going to have to persuade investors that implanting such devices 鈥� as opposed to merely wearing them 鈥� is necessary, ethical and, above all, safe. It will be a hard case to make. Parents might like the sound of these implants, but how many would be willing to see their children undergo surgery to get one? How would you prove the implant carried no long-term medical risks? What if the device breaks when the child takes a knock? At what age would a child earn the right to decide whether to have the implant removed?
Such concerns have so far failed to demolish the idea because it鈥檚 widely assumed that you would need to hide an implant beneath the skin to prevent an abductor switching it off. But ensuring the device is visible may be far more effective. Like a flashing light in your car or a metal box stuck on the side of your house, it鈥檒l say hands off that child.
But even wearable tracking systems should not be used too lightly. They might be more practical and free of hidden medical risks, but what about their psychological impact on young children? Relentlessly reminded of danger, some might grow up phobic of the world outside the family home and car. Others might develop a false sense of security that makes them less able to deal with the risks of the real world.
That parents want to protect their children is understandable. But quick-fix gadgets could in the end create more problems than they solve.